Miracle League - 2026 Season

When you have a child with disabilities, you discover an entire world that you didn't know existed. I'm so grateful we are living in the era we are in terms of access to services, resources and opportunities to enjoy childhood for Teddy. There's so much that exists now that I don't believe existed during my childhood. 

One of the amazing opportunities is Miracle League, which provides kids the chance to play baseball on an accessible field partnered with amazing volunteer buddies who support their needs. Year after year, Teddy has had great buddies, and this year Sam did amazing with him. From the first game, Sam was comfortable interacting with Teddy, guiding him where they needed to go and supporting him to bat and run the bases. It is so cool as parents to see these young volunteers shine with how they interact with our children, and Teddy lit up when he saw Sam each week.

Sam + Teddy = All smiles!

This season was extra fun because Teddy has become best friends with Mikey through school this year. As parents of a non-verbal child, it took us a while to realize Teddy had this best friend, but we eventually figured it out. These two boys cannot get enough of each other. It doesn't matter if they spend hours together during the day, they're constantly wanting to hang out again with each other. 

So they were on the same baseball team, which meant every Tuesday we got to hang out together at the ball field. Teddy loved having his friend with him to bat next to him, play together in the outfield, get ice cream before or after the games, share supper before and ride together to games. Their friendship made this season extra sweet for all of us.

These two are something else together!

We're lucky that Teddy has such amazing family and friends. Every game came with a cheering section, complete with grandparents, great aunts and uncles and our adopted kids or some combination thereof. It's truly a blessing to have family and friends who show up for us to share in the ordinary moments of summer that really are the extraordinary moments of life. 

Train Time

When you live in Wisconsin, you look forward to signs of spring. Whether it's early tulips and daffodils poking through the cold ground, the grass slowly turning green or the warmer days, they're all harbingers of spring. Teddy's favorite sign of spring, though, is the start of train rides at the National Railroad Museum. 

We're fortunate to live within an hour of this incredible train museum. Like our membership at EAA, one day I hope to go and actually read all the exhibits, but for now I get to enjoy bits and pieces, whatever I can read in the moments that Teddy stays in one place. Usually, though, he's on the go exploring all the trains. This museum is fantastic because so much of the exhibits are a "yes," not a "no" for Teddy. What I mean by this is that you're allowed to climb inside and walk through more of the displays than not, which is exactly what Teddy wants. 

I mean, really, it's not enough to just see a train. You have to walk through it, sit in it and, of course, try to drive the engines! That's how you experience the full joy!

One of the great things with a membership is that we can visit for 20 minutes if Teddy isn't feeling it (usually never the case) or as long as we want. A membership means a quick visit is just as worth it as a long visit when you're not paying an individual fee for entrance only to have a tough day and have to leave early. 

The best part of the membership, though, is the train rides that are included! There's a 20-minute or so train ride every 2 hours during the warmer months. A perfectly time visit starts with a train ride, followed by exploring all the trains and exhibits, capped off with a second train ride. (We might be the only family to double up on train rides, but I doubt it.)

Train rides are one of the best things!

This past weekend was the NFL draft, hosted in Green Bay. This meant the population of the city was more than doubled in size to host this event, which made people shy away from the city if they weren't there for the draft. It also meant the train museum ran train rides on the hour.

So we drove the hour north, hedging our bets that traffic wouldn't be a nightmare and that parking at the museum wouldn't be too bad. And we struck gold. Since so many people didn't venture out, the museum was remarkably quiet. In fact, we had the first train ride as a private train ride, during which Teddy befriended the conductor and made him sit right next to him. It was a great experience, fantastic to hear this kind volunteer who trains all other conductors take interest in Teddy and share how they are dementia certified and work to make it a great experience for all people. We got to witness this in action on the second train ride of the day when another child who plays in Teddy's baseball league was really excited and then agitated and sharing that with vocalizations. The conductor simply paused in his tour when necessary and picked right back up, never judging or making the experience anything less for anyone ... well, except maybe Teddy who still thought the conductor should sit right by him again. 

Teddy and his new best friend, all smiles!

Running & Relaxing

Let me preface this by saying there is very little relaxing about running when it's 90 degrees pushing 90 pounds. 

But it is relaxing for Teddy to be pushed, especially along the riverfront where there is an endless stream of boats. We also detoured to the train bridge and got to watch a train go past, and then walked an extra half mile at the end to avoid the mean seagull that was dive bombing us and almost pooped on Teddy. Jerk pigeon. 

 Teddy had a rough listening day and ended up with hurt feelings, timeouts and not nearly the fun he could have enjoyed. So I took advantage of a group run with Running Water City to change his mood and ensure we both had some form of fun tonight. Again, it's a twisted version of fun for me, but it was worth it to allow him to enjoy the time out and about and for both of us to enjoy the patio at the brewery afterward. 

Fifth Ward is my favorite brewery, and I actually got to sit for about 15 minutes at the table while Teddy chilled with his popcorn until he decided the couch looked like a better seat. He tried to invite my friends to join him, but they couldn't "hear" him looking at them and pointing at the couch. So he had to go back (after about 5-10 minutes of trying) and physically show them what he wanted.

Someone was very happy to be at the table with his popcorn.

Thank goodness for friends who enjoy Teddy's company, who rebuckle him in his chair, who grab popcorn for me, who walk back to our vehicle with us and buckle him in and just make it as easy as it can be to enjoy a post-run beer with Teddy.

Fourth Grade Finished!

Teddy's officially a fifth grader. I can't believe next year will be his last year at Franklin Elementary School. I won't lie. I was devastated when he went to Franklin because I had envisioned both my boys at the same school. I desperately wanted AJ to be there to advocate for Teddy, to share about the snippets of his days and just to be a familiar face.

Fast forward to now, and I know I'll be devastated when Teddy leaves Franklin. He has so many who advocate for him at his school, so many who include him and welcome him with open arms (until perhaps he starts rolling up in their blanket fort and chewing on their blankets, which is understandable), so many friends who say hi to him randomly in the community and invite him to fun parties and so many who share snippets of his days. I swear just about everyone at Franklin, kid or staff, knows Teddy. 

This 5th grader is ready for a summer of baseball fun!

At the end of the school year, we asked his team to sign a book for him. I think he came home with 6 or 7 new notes. The most common theme was Teddy's smile, how much joy it brings and how he makes others smile. The second most common phrase was "keep me on my toes." Both are so true of Teddy.

We're so grateful for an incredible team that includes so many people:

• His teacher
• His 4th grade teacher
• His OT and her assistant
• His PT
• His speech therapist
• His nurse
• His nurse assistant, who administered his meds daily
• The incredible group of paraprofessionals
• The student teacher (Teddy taught her well I imagine)
• The tech person who supports his device
• And all the others who keep him safe and include him

It's been a good year, and now we're ready for summer! But where's my team to keep him safe for summer?!?!? (More on that to come in a future post - it's been an adventurous first week of summer.)

King of the Class

 The other week we got this picture from Teddy's teacher.

Look at that smile!

Teddy was crowned king of music class ... for his dancing!

Joy and Love

I often talk about Teddy and his joy for life. He truly has a zest for life and a joy that is unparalleled. I have never met anyone who lives with as much joy as Teddy. 

It's not every moment of every day, but there are moments in darn near every day. Some days we're so preoccupied with life or focused on the to-do list of the day to live in the moment with Teddy. Today was a day where I was able to embrace the moments of joy with Teddy, and it was truly a blessing.

He jumped for joy and bounced like a bunny to check out the lawn mowers at Lowes. We chilled (literally it was rather cool this morning, so he was cleaning frost off the seats with his behind) for 20 minutes checking out various lawn mowers, each equally fun for him!

He buckled himself into the first one. 

Later in the day he bounced into the house grinning while holding and hugging me. I don't know the reason, but it was pure joy.

After his bath this evening, he gave me full-body hugs, wrapping himself around me to get squeezes. I left his bedroom saying how lucky I was to be his mom and experience this joy and love.

Baseball was a Hit

Teddy finished his first season with Miracle League, and we're already looking forward to next season. I'm so glad we discovered this program and decided to give it a try, even though games are 30 minutes away. This is such a fantastic program that truly makes baseball accessible to kids with all different abilities and disabilities through a team of creative and caring volunteers. The amount of volunteers needed to support 16 teams of kids, each with a 1:1 buddy, not to mention coaches, photographers, umpires and more is a significant number, yet there always seemed to be plenty of helpers with smiles on their faces who love making baseball possible. 

Teddy's buddy Carlie was amazing with him. She quickly learned how to communicate with him and anticipate his moves. She definitely could keep up with him and was part of the reason he had a great season! He also had great coaches, who quickly knew him by name, cheered him on and supported him.

Teddy with one of his biggest fans and his amazing buddy!

This video captures baseball pretty accurately for Teddy. I thought he was coming to say hi to me, but he was more concerned about everyone else in the stands (none of whom he knows).

Inclusion by Invitation

One of the positives of having an "adopted daughter" who works at Teddy's school is that we get to hear more about Teddy's school life. His teacher does a great job with communication, but she has some insights that we wouldn't hear otherwise. 

For example, we heard about Teddy's classmate who burst into tears when he saw Teddy's picture because he misses Teddy. That prompted an entire 3rd-grade class discussion about why Teddy wasn't in school right now and how much everyone missed Teddy and wanted him back in the classroom. That was heartwarming to hear.

Then, an invitation to a birthday party came home last week. This is Teddy's second invite to a party. Of course we won't send him because of COVID, but were it not COVID, I'd consider sucking it up to attend with him because I think he'd have such a great time. I know this little boy and his mom somewhat from our interactions, and his mom has an idea of Teddy's abilities, so I'd be comfortable that we wouldn't completely make a scene.

So, this time around, we'll send a present to school with our connection to give to the boy's mom. That way, he'll have something to remember Teddy by until he sees Teddy back at school. (This wasn't the boy who was distraught that Teddy wasn't in school, just as an FYI.)

I love that Teddy's classmates and friends remember him, miss him and want him to rejoin them at school. I want the same ... 

Hello, My Name Is ...

None of us probably give a second thought about introducing ourselves. In fact, there's probably very few introductions that stick out in your mind. You might remember meeting someone new, where your friendship started, etc. but likely not the exact greeting.

You probably wonder where this is going, unless you read my Facebook post over the weekend. We visited a store this weekend, and I was wandering the aisles pushing Teddy when a sales associated asked if we needed any assistance. I replied, "No thanks, we're good," and continued browsing. She then looked directly at Teddy in his adaptive stroller (think mini-wheelchair without all the bells and whistles) and asked him, "How about you? Are you good?"

Right away, I was impressed that she took the time to engage directly with Teddy, who's clearly not your typical child. I asked Teddy if he could tell her yes, and he signed "yes" in response to my verbal prompt. And then I continued browsing because I thought we were done with the interaction until I heard the sales associate say, "My name is Ashley." I looked back toward her to see her signing what she was saying aloud.

I was shocked for a moment and gathered my wits enough to say that we're not quite that advanced in our signs yet, but that we know "treat" and "thank you." She said those were important words to know and encouraged us to find her if we needed any assistance.

Her introduction will stick with me for years. I was able to reach a manager at the store to let him know how much I appreciated Ashley's interactions. Not only did she engage with Teddy, but she was able to speak his language and acknowledge his answer. 

I think sign language is undervalued as a second language. I realize that so many have their own "slang" within sign language or their own way of signing when they aren't hearing impaired but are non-verbal. For example, Teddy uses the sign for candy for "treat," and realistically a lot of signs end up with Teddy pointing to his mouth where he wants the food to go. Still, we can understand him, and with continued practice, others like Ashley will be able to communicate with him as well. 

Thanks to Variety!

Yesterday we got a package in the mail from Variety, a Wisconsin-based organization that supports families who have children with disabilities. Variety assists with everything from adaptive bikes to allow children with disabilities to just be kids. Variety also hosts a variety of activities to give these families a chance to enjoy different outings and activities that might not otherwise be available to them. Their goal is simple, according to their Web site: Enriching the lives of children with physical or developmental special needs and their families. 

Last year was the first time that we joined any of their events as many are further away from where we live. But they hosted holiday gatherings throughout the state, with one near us, at local movie theaters. Our family was able to go to a movie, visit Santa (and creeper stare at him as Teddy is fascinated by him but not so sure about up close and personal) and got a few treats for the boys. It was a great experience, although predictably Teddy watched very little of the movie. He enjoyed himself exploring the theater, and it wasn't a bit deal that he didn't sit nicely the entire time. It was a welcoming and inclusive environment, which was so appreciated. 

This summer they did summer picnic baskets, so we used that as an excuse for an outing to make the drive to pick up the goodies. The boys had so much fun with the treats, and we enjoyed a break from the usual pandemic routine.

The holiday gatherings didn't happen this year, but they offered Christmas goodie bags. We didn't want to commit to making the drive in case the weather was bad, yet they mailed a box of fun and goodies for both our kiddos to our house. We're waiting to dig into it until this weekend but are looking forward to it.

It's little things that make a big difference. Variety is less about the treats or goodies and more about the inclusion and acceptance. 

I Heart CDG

No, I really don't love CDG, but that's the button I wore the other week to AJ's school. AJ designed buttons for us to wear while we shared with his class about CDG and Teddy, so I proudly wore mine.

Every year since kindergarten, AJ and I have presented to his class to share a bit about Teddy and his diagnosis. I view it as a great opportunity to help his classmates understand not only a bit more about Teddy in particular, but also how to interact with people with disabilities. (It's easy. Like they're people.)

AJ talked about adapted equipment Teddy uses. 

AJ put so much effort into this presentation, with obvious love for his brother and a desire to help others understand Teddy. This was the first year where he did the majority of the talking with me adding a few things and guiding a few questions. He put together a Power Point presentation and did a very nice job with that. I showed a few pieces of Teddy's equipment, such as his chair and demonstrated the backpack carrier with AJ. We talked about how these things allow Teddy to do the things we enjoy as a family.

The kids listened so well.

Then we played charades with his class. AJ used his list for Valentine's to divide his class ahead of time into three groups, and he even created the charade ideas this year. They were definitely really tough, such as "No bullying" or "I love Oreos." We use the game of charades to help the kids think of what it's like to communicate without talking ... how frustrating it can be to not be able to talk and be understood but also how hard it is to guess what someone wants or means from a few gestures. One boy nailed it on the head when he said, "You can't just give up because Teddy can't tell you."

I have spent time in AJ's classroom on a regular basis, and I can say without any exaggeration that I have never seen his classmates sit or listen as well as they did for his presentation ... at least until he passed around the pictures after about 20 or 30 minutes of talking.

As long as AJ's teacher is willing, I hope to continue this tradition every year. I think it's nice for AJ to be able to share about Teddy with his classmates to build some empathy and understanding. I also think it's absolutely critical that children get exposure to others who are different to demystify things and help them understand that children with disabilities are still children who want to play and have fun in their own ways.

It's a New Year

New Year's has never been my favorite holiday. Years ago it was because I was an old soul who'd rather be in bed and didn't understand the fuss of staying up eating and drinking until a certain time. The new year would still be there when I woke up the next morning anyways.

Then six years ago our lives changed forever on New Year's Day when Teddy had his first seizures. It's hard to go through the holiday season without reliving at least some of those memories. I remember the terrifying moments, but I also remember the love and support from family and friends. That's the fortunate thing is that every bad is accompanied by some good, the silver lining in every cloud, so to speak.

Still, the holiday season puts us on edge a bit, Dave more than me, but we're both on edge by this point in the holiday season. Then when you throw in a night away from home where Teddy screams himself to sleep eventually (after sucking out any desire to do anything but sleep yourself for whatever time you get), a deflated air mattress (because we have horrible luck with air mattresses) and Teddy awake for the day at 4 a.m. ... I'm not even sure how to finish that sentence. Dave and I have a system, though, that involves Dave fighting through the bedtime struggle and taking early morning scenic drives through the Northwoods in the pitch dark for a couple hours. I tackled the night, wrangling Teddy on a deflated air mattress and then morning duty while Dave caught a good nap.

As I trailed Teddy outside in the winter wonderland, I struggled though. I kept repeating in my mind, "Comparison is the thief of joy," which is a favorite Theodore Roosevelt quote of mine. I enjoyed my time with Teddy, both of us bundled up appropriately, laying under snow-covered trees, chasing cousins and going for rides on the sled. I struggled, though, because we're the only ones who have to be outside for our child to play safely outside. All the other cousins, including those younger than Teddy, can play outside on their own. That means their parents can relax inside, go for walks on their own, hang out at their own cabin without a real worry about their children. And we can't. One of us always has to be on.

Now, don't get me wrong. Our families are great that they will indeed watch Teddy, and Dave's mom will frequently watch him up north so we can go for a walk or his dad will take Teddy for a 4-wheeler ride (when it's not 0). The aunts and uncles all pitch in and look out for Teddy. But it's still always our responsibility without an ask and we never want to be an imposition.

That, and sometimes the cousins are absolutely great with Teddy, including him in their play, asking him to come play with them and showing him their snow forts. And then other times the cousins end up in tears when Teddy opens their gifts or there's a chorus of "No, Teddy!" or "I don't want Teddy to follow me!" Sometimes the "No" is deserved, and sometimes Teddy's doing absolutely nothing wrong or not even in the near vicinity. There's also the "Teddy is a baby." And all the adults do their best to explain and redirect, be it Teddy or the others. I understand completely that interactions with Teddy are challenging at times because he doesn't understand all the social norms. It still is hard for me at least. 

So, this isn't very much of a happy New Year's post, but it's real. And I know this is much harder for me than it is for Teddy. In his mind, he got to see his cousins and family and two dogs and eat a lot of good food and go for an extra Tahoe ride with his dad. Not a bad two days, right?

Teddy loved the fireworks, especially the loud ones that startled all the other kids!

MTT Season Celebration

Tonight our home was full of friends made through myTEAM Triumph (MTT) to celebrate the end of the 2019 running season. For those who follow the blog, we got connected with MTT right when Teddy turned 3. It's a group that pairs able-bodied athletes with individuals with disabilities to give them the opportunity to participate in athletic events, most commonly runs although duathlons and triathlons aren't out of the question.

The group is so accepting and welcoming of all individuals and their families. We look forward to the start of training runs each year and realize when we attend the first one how much we missed it through the winter months. The season typically wraps up in early October, so we hosted a gathering to enjoy everyone's company again.

We had 4 captains with different personalities, abilities and disabilities, along with their families and a few of our regular angels and crew members. We had an abundance of food, but more importantly smiles, laughter and conversation. One of the angels brought a box of toys to share, so everyone had fun playing with "new" toys and even got to keep some of the toys.

This group is such a safe space for us, a place where Teddy is wholeheartedly accepted. He can grab anyone's hand and attempt to convince them to do anything, including climb into rather small waffle block creations for a grown adult. And they will. We all look out for each other's children, so we all get a chance to converse.

Heck, I even found someone to hang out with our boys for a couple hours Thursday to cover a gap since Dave will be out of town for work while I had a running event planned. And these are people who I'd trust because they have either raised children with significant needs and/or willingly spend their time every week volunteering with our Captains. They're solidly good people, and it is such a blessing to be a part of this organization.

Double the Art, Double the Fun

When I picked Teddy up from school Friday, I had the chance to talk to his para who is working in the classroom all November. I asked how his day was, and she said he got art twice that day. He went with the first grader students, stayed for about 15 minutes to complete his project and then left while the rest of them finished class. He also went to his adapted art class with the other students in his special needs classroom. (It's weird, I'm not sure what to call his class ...)

She also mentioned that on Wednesday he went to all of gym class with the first graders. She said they ran for 7 minutes, and that Teddy ran with them the entire time. He was tired after gym class, but it was so wonderful to hear that he had the opportunity to participate for all gym class. See, I watched Teddy's adapted physical education class once, and it was like watching a room of ping pong balls bouncing around the gym because each child needed essentially 1:1 support to successfully follow the instructions for the activity. So I fully understand the effort it takes to include Teddy in a gym class with 20 other first grade students, but I feel it's so critical to his development, acceptance, learning and social inclusion.

The thing that really gets me about that gym class is that this is the child who we wondered and worried for the first nearly three years of his life whether he would ever walk independently. This same child ran with his friends for the entire 7 minutes of running in gym class. Now, that is beyond amazing.

This inclusion with his first grade peers takes effort, no doubt. It also takes a lot of coordination with his teachers, both in his classroom and the first grade teacher. It takes the principal listening to my concerns and the director of special education as well. It takes a whole team of people to make sure the supports are there, so Teddy can run with the other kids. It's something relatively simple that makes me so happy.

And, in case you wonder why we doubted whether he'd ever walk, here's the link to his first independent steps caught on camera. Our little drunk monkey has sobered up through the years, but he still walks like he's had a few too many. Maybe that's why he feels so little pain ...

Neuropsychological Testing ... Yet Another Thing I Never Knew Existed

I've always thought of myself as a person who is fairly well read with a solid vocabulary, but I quickly learned there's a whole lot of words I've never fathomed that I now know well enough to use accurately. Take neuropsychological for example. It sounds like a made-up word, like someone smashed two familiar words like neurology and psychology together.

But it's a real word, and today I used it in the context of Teddy having several hours of neuropsychological testing done at Children's Hospital in Milwaukee. Essentially, it's testing to evaluate where he is from a skills standpoint done through parent questionnaires, teacher questionnaires, specific activities to complete in person under the guise of play and then evaluation of  unstructured play with familiar faces. The purpose is to help us best understand Teddy, how to support him and to advocate for additional resources at school as appropriate. If I'm being honest, the last is probably my biggest hope, although there's some behaviors and the non-existent toilet training that were also discussed.

The testing went perfectly well today, as in Teddy was agreeable, in a good mood and typical Teddy. So his scoring should be accurate and give a good snapshot of who he is. He traveled well for the 3 hours of car rides for the appointment, handled the several hours of testing like a champ and even managed to get through the waiting room without making a spectacle of us. (Trust me, my level of acceptable social behavior for Teddy is much different than that standard for AJ, so we still get looks everywhere we go.)

But it was tough. I cried as I filled out the questionnaire I had to do today because it just sucks to see in black and white all that your child cannot do that others his age can do. I know it because it's our reality every day, but we get used to our reality and ignore the stark contrast. Filling out a form and checking only 3 boxes on a list of 25 or more items that Teddy can do is demoralizing ... and that wasn't even the communication page, which is usually the area Teddy lacks the most.

This is one of the many pages of fun forms. 

Hearing that he's made progress since he was tested almost two years ago is great ... except that progress still puts him at less than a 2-year-old average across the board. My goddaughter who turns two in February will pass Teddy in every skill by her next birthday, and that just sucks. It sucks because I know how damn hard he works for every bit of that progress, the 5 years of therapy it's taken us to get to that functioning level, the things we do every day to help develop those skills and how much I wish I could make life easier for him.

I don't want it to sound as though I'm in denial because we know who Teddy is and how severely affected he is with his CDG-PIGN. At the same time, though, hearing the words intellectual disability is like a solid kick to the stomach. It takes all my willpower to keep the tears in my eyes from rolling down my cheeks .... not because it's a surprise, not because I don't know that already, not because the doctor is mean, but because that just hurts to hear as a parent.

As parents, we want the best for our children, and sometimes it's so hard to understand how this can be the best for Teddy. That's why there's others who help us see the light on these tough days without them necessarily realizing it. My aunt came to visit as we were scheduled for several hours of testing. We got a brief visit, and she entertained Teddy while the doctor and I debriefed. And when I got home, still feeling down, I read her Facebook post (and stole her photo):

"A funtastic play date with Teddy this morning when he was here for his annual evaluation. I can’t describe the joy I feel to see his face light up when I walk into the room. He is a blessing."

The smile that lights up a room.

Without a Word

When I picked Teddy up from school on Friday for music therapy, the administrative assistant in the office told me, "Teddy is just the sweetest boy." She proceeded to explain that sometimes she helps get Teddy into the building in the morning if no one else is available. She said that when she opens the door and informs Teddy he's stuck with her that he lights up with his smile every time. Then she said that every time it makes her feel special and brightens her day.

This kid brings so much joy (along with all the stress).

That's the type of enthusiasm and joy Teddy has for life. When I came home late one evening this week and walked in the door, Teddy literally started jumping up and down because he was so excited to see me. Who else jumps for joy just to see you on a Thursday when they saw you 12 hours earlier? (I'm not going to lie. I still love that he can jump.)

The school nurse was also in the office, and I commented that I heard she had Teddy's kindergarten teacher visit while Teddy was at her office for his lunchtime medicine. She chuckled and said Teddy was pointing at her office chair that day, so she realized he wanted to sit in her chair. She not only let him sit in her chair, but then she pushed him out of the office and down the hall to his class. What other child could convince an adult to give them a ride down the hall like that ... without saying a word?

Before I left the office, Teddy's principal introduced herself since we've been chatting about the support and inclusion opportunities at Teddy's school and whether they have enough resources. She echoed their sentiments about how much she enjoys Teddy.

What was part of my routine every Friday was made special by others sharing how much they enjoy Teddy. And that is my ultimate goal for Teddy at school: I want him to be loved and accepted for who he is and what he can do. And it's clear that he is.

Speed Demons

Last week we ran our final myTEAM Triumph (MTT) race of the year, Run with the Cops. It's a fantastic event that supports both Special Olympics and our local law enforcement. There's tons of police vehicles to explore, plenty of lights and sirens, oodles of glow-in-the dark stuff along the way and a rather incredible finish line food spread. Teddy's participated the past three years and enjoyed himself thoroughly each year.

This year we had the kink that Dave was out of town for work, there's no way AJ can run 3 miles and both Teddy and I were committed to running. Thankfully, one of the other Captain's moms hung out with AJ while we raced, so he had a great time with her.

Speed demons with their little devil ... and big brother.

Teddy loved his devil pitchfork that my friend Rachell gave him, as we all sported devil horns to be speed demons with him. His chair was lit up like Christmas (literally with green lights), and we finally made good use of the incredibly annoying police light/siren that he got for his bike a few years ago for his birthday. (Thanks Uncle John and Aunt Lindsay.)

It's a really fun run because it goes through the college campus, so there's oodles of college students cheering and handing out glowing items. Teddy loved his glowing antennae headband and actually did a really good job keeping it on for quite a while.

It's hard to say whether his favorite part was exploring the prisoner transport bus (because he loves buses), getting all the glow items or managing to eat two full-size donuts at the end of the race. It was a good night to be Teddy.  It was also a great night to be his mom and appreciate our village that makes these magical moments happen.

This was his first donut. Imagine his happiness at getting a second.

Super Swim Sessions

Teddy has done adapted swim classes through the local YMCA for several years now, and I know I've talked a few times about how wonderful they are. For a very reasonable price, Teddy gets matched with volunteers who spend an hour in the pool with him while I get to watch how much fun they're having and be glad it's not me wrestling Teddy.

These classes serve a few purposes:

1. There's always the possibility that Teddy will learn to swim independently one day, and this is how that magic would happen.
2. Even if he's not independently swimming, these classes are fantastic therapy sessions for him that incorporate his speech, fine motor and gross motor. 
3. Teddy loves being in water, so it's an activity that he enjoys.
4. We get a break for an hour where we get to see the joy on Teddy's face when we're not putting in all the effort, so we can truly enjoy it. (Or we can just get an hour of work done that wouldn't happen otherwise.)

We usually skip the summer sessions because we head to other pools, so we just do the fall and spring sessions. Hands down, our favorite are the fall sessions when the YMCA partners with class at the local university and has the students teach the swim lessons as the main part of their adapted physical education class. It's fantastic because there's usually two students matched to each participant, and everyone has such a great time once the students get past their initial nerves. 

He is such a lucky kiddo to have these amazing ladies as his teachers!

I heard tonight that another local college is looking at the possibility of doing the same program in the spring semester. That would be awesome because otherwise the program is largely supported by volunteers, so there's less help to go around. That's when I feel a bit bad about someone older than me having Teddy to manage for an hour by herself because, quite frankly, he's a workout. He's adorable, but he's a workout.

So, we'll see what spring brings, but for now we'll be so grateful that Teddy is matched with two young ladies who ask good questions, try different things and are already wrapped around Teddy's finger. 

Field Trip Fun

Field trips are a mixed bag of emotions for me.

I love to see Teddy included and have the opportunity for fun learning, just like any other child. I tend to resent, though, that one of us as parents have to take off work to accompany him on his field trips because there's not adequate staff to have someone accompany him. (I get that's an issue I should be able to resolve through the school, and I will address it through his IEP once we're done with some additional testing for him next month.)

Teddy made friends with the bus driver, who let him open/shut the doors.

I love to see his classmates who interact wonderfully with him, from the girl who holds his hand and pats his arm when he's upset that he has to wait and not freely explore everything to the little boy who sat next to him digging for dinosaur bones praising his digging and taking turns with Teddy. I don't like to hear that Teddy's not in the first grade classroom that often (per a kid's perception, of course) because he needs a staff to support him to be integrated. I know it's early in the year, and I know there's kids in any class who are a handful for the teacher to manage and that it's tough to add Teddy to the mix. But he learns so much from others, and the gaps between him and his peers will only widen each year. Now is the time to invest in the staffing to have him spend as much time as possible mainstream. (Clearly, you can see what's on my mind. Again, I have plans to address this properly through the school rather than just complain about it here.)

Bookworm Gardens in Sheboygan is definitely worth a visit with lots to explore. 

I love the kids who say that Teddy's their friend. I both love and hate the questions they ask because they're curious about Teddy. I will always answer any questions to help others understand Teddy because I'm Teddy's voice. It still hurts most times I answer why Teddy can't talk like others and how he can communicate instead. But there are now several kids in his class who know that clapping is how Teddy says, "I want." And there's also kids in his class who probably have ideas on other signs they can teach him. That's all wonderful, but it still hurts to spend a whole day watching Teddy and his peers who aren't his peers ... and to realize that his intentional classroom's wonderful circus of a gym class is where his peers are. Field trips are really only hard because I haven't fully mastered the art, skill or whatever you want to call it of acceptance.

Like I said, it's a mixed bag of emotions. 

Another Day, Another Race

One of the best parts of our summer is myTEAM Triumph, an organization that partners able-bodied athletes with individuals with disabilities. Teddy ran his first race with them shortly after his 3rd birthday, and we've loved every moment. Everyone is so welcoming and accepting of all our Captains. We've developed such friendships that others offer to take Teddy for periods of time at training runs or races or simply just take him to go exploring. 

Aside from the friendships, Teddy loves to run. He gets antsy waiting in his race chair before the race, but he loves when he's being pushed. He lucked out today and had the fastest team. (He came in second of the MTT teams because he walked across the finish line on his own.) He also had an angel who knows him from training runs, so not only did she push him for the race but then also wrangled and chased him back to where I was. 

Teddy wouldn't smile because he was too confused by the pace car in front of him.

Most often I'm running as one of Teddy's angels, but Teddy joined just last week for this race because they had an open Captain spot. So AJ and I spectated with cowbells. I helped push Captain Katie's chair while she walked across the finish line with her angels. Now that was something incredible to witness. Captain Katie worked for each and every step to cross the finish line, and her two angels supporting her were drenched in sweat by the time they crossed not only from the effort of running the race but also from supporting their Captain across the line. It was truly humbling to watch her effort and determination for the simple act of walking that we often take for granted. 

We still have at least one more race left this season, Run with the Cops, next week. That's always a fun race with lots of lights, doughnuts and goodies along the way. It'll be extra special this year because I've roped at least one of my Moms Run This Town friends into being an angel. It's pretty neat to combine my love of running and my love of Teddy. 

#runlikeangels #MTTambassador